


Nothing Ever Stays the Same

by daphnie_1



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Character Study, Family Drama, Female Protagonist, Gen, M/M, POV Female Character, Postpartum Depression, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-01
Updated: 2010-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-11 20:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/116922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daphnie_1/pseuds/daphnie_1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winona Kirk sometimes wonders why her son keeps on changing - or Two Times Winona realized she didn't really know the person Kirk had become even though she's a pretty damn good mom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Ever Stays the Same

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Swearing, minor canon character death, light discussion of pregnancy, Post Parting Depression, and possibly depression depending on you reading.
> 
> beta: The lovely Jaylee_g

Winona Kirk has never really understood people. It's not that she doesn't try; it's just never been one of her strong points. George had once joked it was an engineer thing and she's starting to wonder if it is. 

George had been one of the few people she'd ever understood. She'd known from the start – he'd said one word and it'd all clicked, all made perfect sense. She could look at him and know exactly how he worked. She liked that, liked that he was so easy to read.

So, she'd asked him out for a drink, and well, the rest is pretty much history.

She hadn't thought it would stick – she'll admit that much – but it had. She doesn't know how, or why, but she's not sure it's important anyway. That sort of thing is just luck, right? She still remembers sitting in the _Reliant_ med-bay, being told she was pregnant, and not quite believing it'd got to this. She'd never wanted children – never mind two – and it'd taken a while for the whole thing to sink in. What it'd mean for her future, her career in Starfleet, everything. She'd known for two whole weeks before she told George.

Then Sam had been born six months later.

It had taken her a while to love Sam properly. It's not something she's ever admitted to anyone but it had taken a few months at least. It just took a while for her to get used to having someone else in her life, someone that was dependent on her and George, someone that she had to take care of. She has always been able to take care of herself but another person? That had been totally different because she hadn't even been sure she wanted to.

She remembers the tears, and the long nights, and just... everything. She should probably have got help with it all and she still doesn't know why she didn't. In retrospect, the night she spent hunched over her current academic paper, trying to keep it all together because she'd been so fucking tired, should probably have been the first clue. Especially since she'd never been a crier before Sam.

But you know what they say – everything is obvious in hindsight. And she'd never really been one to ask for help anyway. With George she never usually had to, he always just seemed to know. Just seemed to know and act on it without saying. But he hadn't noticed, probably because she hadn't let him.

Sam had been a bright, happy, little baby, and eventually she had grown to love him fiercely. It took a while, but it happened. There had been days when she'd seriously doubted it would. Seriously doubted that she could look at him and think of him as her son.

She had no problems with Sam as he grew up, never really had to worry about him. He grew from being a perfectly normal baby to a perfectly normal young man. He grew up, settled down with someone, and is just, well, normal. Winona doesn't like Sam's wife, but there's no denying that she's _nice_.

Jim though, Jim was entirely different.

She had loved him from the word go and she doesn't know why the experience was different from Sam. She'd wanted to keep Jim close and never, ever, let him go. She remembers the first time her tiny son grabbed her hand, and how that made her feel.

Perhaps it's because Jim had been a sick little baby. He'd been born early, way too early, riddled with allergies, and somehow he had seemed more real than Sam. Yeah, she knows that probably sounds a little weird, but it's true. 

As a kid Jim had adored her. Whenever Winona came back from a tour of duty he would always be so eager to see her. He would always be waiting on her at the top of the path, ready to hug her, and want to know _everything_.

They would talk long into the night and she would tell him stories. Take him outside and show him the stars, tell him about all the wonderful things out there. She had tried to include Sam in this, but he just wasn't interested.

Those nights always made Iowa seem so quiet compared to the noises on a starship, with nothing but the hum of crickets and the night sky to take your mind off things.

On those nights she knew that her son would end up in Starfleet and she was okay with that. It had been the soul ambition of her life as a kid – to be the chief engineer of a Starship – so she knew what it was like. She had always loved to build things, loved to understand how they worked, and Starfleet had just seemed right.

Jim and Sam couldn't have been any more different. If Sam was firmly grounded, Jim had his head in the clouds. If Sam was ordinary then Jim was anything but.

Then one day it all just seemed to stop, and Jim wasn't really Jim anymore, wasn't really her son. That bright spark in him – that enthusiasm and intelligence, and just, life – seemed to disappear. Every time she saw him, talked to him, he got _worse_ – he got more like her. Everyone seemed to assume it was George she saw in Jim, but no, it was _her._

Weirdly, that horrified her way more.

Then the whispers started. About how she neglected them, about how she was a bad mother because she was never there. She hadn't paid any attention, refused to. Starfleet has been the saving grace of her life, that much she knows. She could not let it go, could not abandon something that means so much, not abandon something that _good_.

If that makes her selfish? Then fuck it, she's selfish. People will think what they think, and quite frankly she didn't care about them. She had always done right by her boys as best she could and that's all that mattered.

It always made her laugh – still does – that they conveniently managed to overlook the most salient fact of them all: she came back. She wasn't perfect, and she's not going to pretend that, but she _tried,_ and yeah, no-one can ask any more.

Which is why she'd tried to talk to Jim, tried to understand. But, well, she'd never exactly been good with people; it hadn't worked and she hadn't known what to do. It mostly ended up with them screaming at each other, because that's what they both seemed to do, how they dealt with things.

She may be smart, but that doesn't mean she's always going to have the answers. Especially for stuff like this.

So she'd waited, watched, and been ready to talk when he was. _If_ he ever was. Because she knows that you can't push this stuff (that had been her own mother’s issue).

He'd come in from a night out – his face all scratched and bloodied, still half drunk. It must have been about 3am, but she'd still been awake 'cause she's never been very good with the sleep thing. Another thing Jim gets from her.

They'd got into _yet_ another screaming match and suddenly he'd stopped, taken a deep breath, and spilled his heart. She hadn't understood most of it – he was all jumbled and slurred, talking a mile a minute - but he'd decided to go join Starfleet.

Winona doesn't think she's ever been prouder of her son. Sure, he's done some amazing things since then, but she will always look back to that moment and remember what it'd been like to know that he'd never really lost himself, not properly.

She sometimes hates that it's Chris who managed this – managed to help because he'd made it look so easy. Made it look like she'd screwed up in not doing it earlier. Perhaps she had. Chris isn't immune from judging her either. He's never said anything, but, yeah, he didn't need to.

She'd just kissed Jim on the forehead and told him to go for it.

The next thing she knows her son is the Captain of a Starship – and yeah, she'll admit, it's quite a bitter feeling being outranked by your son. She doesn't resent him, but she still can't shake the feeling. But what do you know? According to everyone else, Jim's suddenly stopped being her son anyway so it doesn't matter. For _years_ he'd been her son, her 'problem'. But the second he's doing good? He's George Kirk's son and she's never even mentioned.

She hates that. Because Jim _isn't_ George's son. Sure, biologically he is, but George wasn't the one that raised him, wasn't the one that dealt with everything – that was _her_. It seems harsh now but she sometimes thinks, in a way, that George had it easy because he isn't the one left.

It's not until Jim starts talking about his First Officer that she starts to consider that she might have screwed Jim over worse than she'd realised. It's a single thought, one that hits her in the middle of a conversation, when she realizes that he's in love. It's the way his smile will pick up slightly when he mentions Spock, the way he's always got some anecdote or story to tell that makes it clear Jim thinks Spock is the funniest damn thing going.

And this freaks Winona out more than anything, because it hits her that she never even considered the fact he _could_ fall in love. Jim just. Well, she didn't think he was the type. Didn't think he was capable.

And the best of it? She doesn't think Jim actually knows that he _is_ in love.

She doesn't quite know what to do with this.

So when Jim turns up at her door on his next shore leave, First Officer in tow, she doesn't say anything. Jim tells her it's just 'cause Spock has no-where else to go, but it's a lie and they all know it. But it's a lie she lets him tell because she's told a fair few of her own.

She hates her son's first officer. Spock is perfectly polite, and perfectly calm, and perfectly Vulcan. Except for the way he looks at her. And yeah, you don't need to be a telepath to work out exactly what he's thinking. She hates him for that look, hates him for judging her when he doesn't know all the facts. Despite what Spock obviously thinks, he does _not_ know the facts.

She can't figure out what Jim see's in him, and he obviously does see something, because of the way they are with each other. She can see how they interact, see how they work, and it just doesn't make sense. She watches them together, watches how Jim is with Spock, and realizes for the second time that she doesn't know the person her son has turned into. He is obviously better than he was before – happier, quicker to laugh and to smile – because he managed to fix himself, at least a little.

Spock is obviously not the only one missing a few facts, and she's not going to bother pretending that dosen't hurts like hell.

She wants to go over to Jim, to hug him, to talk to him. To get to know the person her son has become. She wants to go over to Spock and ask about the person her son has turned into, ask him about the stories, and just, everything.

But she won't – because that's just not who she is.

 

 


End file.
